


Tell Me Have You Ever Really

by persevera (vivie)



Category: The Glee Project
Genre: Break-up Misunderstandings, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 00:18:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivie/pseuds/persevera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian and Emily AB-after break-up-- From reviews: ...throughout this series you have not abused the individuals, taking them out of character for the sake of a shallow storyline...This is excellent work and I look forward to more</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Without

_a/n For anyone who hasn't followed the Damily Opus from the beginning , I've given a key to identify what previous story the characters or author are referencing_

Emily-AD

Emily had been right, of course. It had been infatuation. She and Damian had had a great month, then it became harder to arrange time together between New York and California. The South American trip hadn't expanded, as she had hoped.

1And there was that weird thing with Ryan Murphy. She had gotten a text from him saying _Sorry, sweetie. I've changed my mind. Don't bother coming in. All the best, Ryan._

She'd had no idea what it meant but when she showed it to Damian, he'd become really upset. He explained that he had suggested to Murphy that he consider her for a role on Glee as Rory's love interest.

Emily assured him that was very sweet but silly to even think about. She'd decided she wanted to concentrate on her music. And where Damian was just happy about the whole experience, occasionally getting to mug for the camera or sing a depressing song, she knew that wouldn't have satisfied her.

Still he felt like he'd disappointed her and it began to affect their time together.

So far 2012 sucked. First she'd been eliminated from American Idol. Then she'd been in LA a few times for recording. Sometimes she let Damian know when she would be there and sometimes she didn't. Sometimes when she did, he had something else planned.

She'd been excited about the performance at the OK pre-Oscars party with Damian and Cameron but ended up feeling like an intrusion on the bromance.

It didn't feel the same way when she was in Damian's arms for their number. In spite of the awkwardness though, he'd still tried to be possessive and she had bristled against it by being overtly flirtatious with several people there.

Now she'd heard that Damian was going through more than his share of the female population in a 50-mile radius of LA, or wherever he happened to be. That was the hardest thing to accept—that he had changed. She remembered saying that maybe he wouldn't end up doing all of the jerk things that guys did. Now…oh well.

She was sitting at her computer. She opened the folder marked 2The Damian Project and her shoulders slumped. There was still too much good there. She'd added a few pics taken from the time they'd been together. He'd forwarded his 3Songs to Make Emily Twinge file to her. She wasn't anymore ready to delete the folder than she had been after their first weekend, but had to finalize it in some way. She decided to mark it as Mission Aborted.

4The bracelet he'd given her then had been in her jewelry box for a few weeks now. The 1orchid he'd given her and, because it was so fragile, kept with him, with the promise to care for it, was long dead, she was sure.

She'd slept with one of her producers a few times but tried to avoid it as much as possible because sometimes he hit. He would punch her arms or legs—never the face. At least he wasn't jealous. In fact he liked to hear about her encounters with other people.

She hadn't had many lately-a few with women that were unsatisfactory. She made up some to please him.

She was becoming scared. How many chances could someone get anyway, professionally and personally, and they never worked out. She was already making compromises. Would she know when it was time to stop before the concessions became worse, more demeaning?

She got up from the computer and tried to shake off her depression. It was just a bad day. Things always got better.

She had a call on her phone. She looked at the number. "I haven't heard from him since the OK party," she said, "I wonder what he wants."  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Damian-AE

Damian was packing for his long-anticipated trip to Australia. He'd joked that there would be a lot of goin' down Down Under.

He'd been working with a trainer for a while and tanning and felt good about himself physically. But maybe he just didn't like himself so much right now.

He felt bad about all of those girls but none of them had been what he was looking for. One might be sassy but didn't have the vulnerability. Or another might have been very sweet and pretty but just not sexy enough. There was one in particular who had been fiery and tempting enough, but those traits weren't tempered with any grace. None were Emily.

He put his head in his hands as he realized he'd just opened himself up to his daily castigation of _how could I have been so stupid?_

He had thought he was ready to deal with Emily's insecurities and self-doubt, but they'd became overwhelming as her career reached a standstill. Those feelings made her less desirable to him. And an undesirable Emily…really…what was the point?

He had actually made up excuses for not being able to see her a couple of times when she was in LA for recording, then ached for her later.

He knew he had been an ass at the OK party but still didn't think he should apologize, because he hadn't liked the way she'd behaved that night either.

He hadn't wanted to tell her about the effort he'd put into arranging for her to perform with him. She'd made it clear she didn't need his interference or intervention.

He'd heard through the grapevine that she was disgusted and disappointed in his recent conduct so he didn't even try to contact her. He just missed her.

As was his habit, he moved the orchid out of the strong late afternoon sunlight to a more indirect location. It wasn't the original orchid. He had let that one die, perversely wanting it to feel as bad as he did. But when it was no more than a shriveled stem, he felt the need to replace it with a replica from the same open air market. He'd read about how to properly tend them and now this one was what he'd promised Emily—thriving and beautiful. He'd arranged for someone to continue its care while he was on vacation.

He had been excited about this trip for months but now, it felt more like an escape than a pending adventure.

Before leaving for Australia, he was making a trip to New York with his friends from the show. Mark's buddy was making his Broadway debut. "You all met him at the OK party, remember," he had said in corralling them to see the show in support of his friend.

It had been a great performance and they all went backstage to congratulate him. Through the open door, they saw he had his arms around a woman.

With a practiced eye Damian mentally evaluated her from the back. _Second greatest ass I've ever seen….smooth, black hair…not very tall…No!_

The new star greeted them. "Hey, guys, I believe you all know my beautiful friend."

She turned and smiled. Only Damian knew it was her 3armored smile. It was Emily.

1Anything for Ya  
2Easy Come, Easy Go  
3Wrong in All the Right Ways  
4Need You Now


	2. Not a Fling

"So many handsome Glee boys," said Emily flirtily. 'I can't grope you individually so, come on. Group hug me."

Damian's companions willingly circled Emily. He was pulled to stand on the outside of the circle and wished for his own armor…or maybe not.

Despite the two layers of men in suits, he could feel her heat and smell that wonderful spicy, sweet scent that clung to her, no matter what kind of perfume she was wearing.

He couldn't see her body but his hands knew just where her hips were and he mentally pulled her to him. Her head would rest under his chin. Her "tats" would press against him between his chest and stomach, depending on her heels. That prominent front hip bone would tease him just below his belt line. He'd never wanted her more.

He looked around at all of the people in the room. Where was a good fire drill when you needed one…or a bomb scare? While everyone was scurrying around, he could get Emily in a room alone. He knew what to do with her in a room alone. It was when they came out of a room that he could make such a mess of things.

Damian's friends and Emily's date Julian moved to the other end of the room but he continued to stand there, staring at her.

She tried to break the tension. "How have you been, Damian?" she asked, touching his arm.

Her touch brought him out of his near-trance. "Fine," he said automatically. "You're as gorgeous as ever," he said, openly scanning her.

"Stop that," she whispered harshly.

He looked into her dark eyes. "Don't you want me too? You know how we feel together. Come with me," he coaxed her.

"No," she hissed. "Look, Damian, you're going to run into women you've had flings with, especially since there have been so many more of them. You need to learn to handle it better."

"A fl—," Damian began to answer, his eyebrows coming together in anger. Julian motioned for Emily.

She took Damian's arm and led him to the area where his friends were gathered and looking at him anxiously.

"Damian and I go back a long way," she explained to the room at large, while pushing him toward his friends, and moving to stand next to Julian and the distinguished couple with him, "almost a year and a half," she concluded with a little laugh.

The obviously-moneyed woman said, "That's right. You were on The Glee Project together."

"Yes," she confirmed with a smile.

The woman gave a hint of a shake to her head. "I always thought you should have stayed longer. It's unfortunate how catty Ryan Murphy made you and the other girls look with his editing."

Emily was philosophical. "We all decided a long time ago that it was done to make one person look good by comparison. That was Damian. It's ironic, because he was actually the only one who spoke of a physical assault, unless Lindsay would have voluntarily allowed him to stick a sock in her mouth."

Her small group laughed. Damian looked over, unable to ignore her.

The prospective investor gave his opinion. "Well, things have worked out for you. The two of you make a very handsome couple."

From his vantage point Damian saw Emily tense at the idea that it was comparable to have success in her career and to decorate the arm of anyone. No one else would have noticed it because she covered so well. "Yes, he is pretty, isn't he," she said, molding her hand to the side of Julian's dark brown face, "and sinfully talented. He can sing and act too," she added slyly.

The couple tittered and Damian scowled, as he realized Emily had 1modified a compliment he'd given her to praise another man.

Emily felt the scowl but continued smiling and engaging that couple, then others who came in to congratulate Julian.

Damian and his friends finally left and Emily was able to relax.

After the room cleared and Julian had changed, they left the theater and walked the short distance to a restaurant popular with the theater crowd. They had barely sat down and ordered coffee when someone from a few tables over motioned for Julian.

"Go ahead," said Emily encouragingly. "I'll just sit here and drink my hot chocolate and try to look pretty."

Julian kissed her on her temple. "I think you'll manage that," he said.

Emily sat and half-heartedly ran through some lyrics for a new song in her head and tried not to let her thoughts stray to Damian and the memories he had brought with him.

"It wasn't a fling," said a familiar voice above her and to her side.

She looked up to see Damian, obviously drunk and vexed.

"Sit down, Damian," she said automatically. "Could I have some coffee?" she asked a passing server. She passed a water glass to Damian. "Drink that until the coffee comes. What are you doing here?"

He pointed to a large table in the center of the room where his cohorts were sitting. "It wasn't a fling," he repeated. "I lo-"

"Don't say it," Emily interrupted him sternly. "Thank you," she said to the server who brought the coffee.

She added a couple of packets of sugar to minimize the bitterness and gave it to him to drink.

She shook her head in disgust. "You can't drink in public, Damian. You're underage and that's something that the media is really hard on people for."

He tried to reach his hand for her but she pulled away.

"Actually it was a fling, or an extended hook-up, if you prefer. That's what it is when a couple just has fun for a while and strong emotions aren't involved. Are you finished with your coffee? Good. Now we're going to walk back over to your table. You take my arm and we'll smile and you act as though you're laughing at something funny I've said."

They walked over to the table. A more sober Damian asked "what's funny?"

"You love me with all your heart," she said, pushing him into his seat.

She addressed the table. "Are you boys having a good time? Good. Remember he's only nineteen and if he gets any more alcohol while he's here, I'm going to come back and kick all of your asses. Understand?" she asked with her sweetest smile.

The men around the table assured her they would be more alert and she left them with a wave and another crocodile smile.

"How did you let her get away?" asked Harry, sitting next to him. Damian gave his friend a sour look that warned against continuing that line of questioning.

Julian soon returned to the table, ready to leave. There was a limousine to take them to the hotel, reserved for him by the producers.

He and Emily cuddled together and he began fondling her. Emily hadn't realized before that his hands were so…elegant, not big and clumsy, with long fingers…that liked to probe.

"It's such a cute little button," the voice attached to the fingers had said. "How could anyone resist pushing such a cute little button? And look what happens to you when I do. It's like having a remote control toy," Damian had said playfully.

Emily involuntarily moaned as she thought of that. Julian realized it wasn't the result of anything he'd yet done.

Her phone buzzed with a text message. It said simply _I'm so sorry_. She sighed as she read the message.

In a resigned voice Julian said "My guess is McGinty".

She looked at him guiltily.

He made a small grimace. "The limo can only go to the hotel or I'd take you home." He asked the driver to pull over and hail a cab.

Emily was on the verge of tears. "I've spoiled your debut. You were so wonderful."

Julian held her close. "You didn't spoil anything, honey. Maybe he did but there's obviously still something between the two of you."

He held her hand and pulled her out of the limo. "You call me as soon as you resolve those feelings," he said fervently. He got her settled in the cab, gave more than enough money for the fare and tip and Emily's address to the driver. "I could love you too," he said, giving Emily a small kiss.

She sighed as the cab pulled away. She wasn't really surprised to see someone sitting on the stoop at her apartment building.

The driver asked "Do you need an escort?"

"Thanks, but no. He's harmless," Emily said, adding under her breath "unless you fall for him."

1 Anything for Ya


	3. Saddest Thing

Damian looked up, his blue eyes following her, as Emily approached her apartment building. She sat down as far from him as the small space would allow and shouldered the iron railing.

"How did you know I'd moved?" she asked him.

He answered "Alex".

She shook her head with a small humorless smile, "He always had a soft spot for you," she stated.

Damian automatically responded "He has a soft spot for us".

Emily glanced over at him. "3Are we going to recreate that entire night?"

He looked up at the sky. "It's not raining but I wouldn't mind recreating the rest of it, especially the last part. I'll sing for you again," he offered, sliding closer to her.

Emily held up her hands defensively and pushed herself even further against the rail. "Don't bother," she said. "I don't want to twinge."

Damian stopped just short of touching her and, after her last statement, leaned back on the steps. "That's the saddest thing I've ever heard." 

She looked up at him. "If that's true, it just proves what I've always said. You've had a very easy life".

"Not lately," Damian interjected. "I've missed you so much," he said, pressing his forehead against her shoulder.

She didn't move but Damian knew he hadn't made a dent in her armor.

"That's a little hard to believe," she said. "You haven't really had any time without a girl or woman to miss me."

He leaned in closer. "I miss you when I'm with them, Emily. I've tried to find someone to measure up to you. No one does."

"By your standards I don't measure up to me," she said bitterly, moving to stand on the sidewalk.

He kept his eyes on her. "Did you get my text?"

"Yeah," she answered. "Sometimes you think you know what you need to hear…or read…and when you do, it doesn't make any difference."

"Well then dammit, Emily, what will," he demanded, jumping up to stand in front of her. "Help me," he pleaded. "You know how I feel about you. If I did or said something stupid, it's because I'm young and stupid, not because anything changed. 4I'm still what you liked—cute, sweet…able to give you multiple orgasms. You haven't forgotten, have you?," he asked, his breathing becoming heavier as he began rubbing her arms.

She turned with her back to him to minimize the impact of what he was starting to do to her.

"I know how young you are," she said with effort. "That's one of the reasons I shouldn't have become involved with you. I told myself we were just entertainers, so we only needed so much maturity. You were older when we were alone and I was a little younger. I figured we met around 21." She began slowly moving away from him, back to the steps.

"I know you hadn't really had a lot of passion before. Sometimes it made you stupid, like you said. Those things are forgivable. But there's no excuse for not learning and you don't seem to have done that," she finished, sitting down again.

He was becoming frustrated. "Learned what? Why won't you give me a break? I don't want to go back to school; I just want to love you," he said, falling onto the step in front of the one where she was sitting. Come on, Emmy," he coaxed, wrapping his arms around her legs and laying his head on her knees, "*drop your armor for me."

Around the time he had used the word love, Emily had regained control of her defenses. She now laughed bitterly. "Are you kidding? In the last six weeks or so, I've become Kevlar-coated." Again she moved away from him, this time to stand on the other side of the steps, against the other rail.

"I'll wait while you get a cab," she told him. He looked up at her beseechingly but she wasn't giving in now. "Go on," she said with finality.

Damian dragged himself to the curb and whistled.

Involuntarily, Emily smiled. Who still did that? Headphones, windows rolled up for air-conditioning—cab drivers didn't hear whistles anymore. And it's not like this was a busy street where they were waiting for a summons, anyway.

She felt an obligation for Damian. He had been such a happy-go-lucky, level-headed guy when she had dropped herself in his lap, literally, and overwhelmed his senses. She had deeper feelings for him than she would ever tell him, the way he was now, but she'd always be there when he really needed her. Since things usually worked out for him, though, she didn't think he ever really would.

A cab was pulling up to the curb, in response to Damian's whistle. "4Maybe he is magical," she said to herself, the way she had that first weekend, though in very different circumstances. _Don't think about that,_ she scolded herself. She realized this might be the last time she saw him.

She walked down the steps and took his hand. He looked at her with renewed hope.

"I can't tell you what to do," Emily said, "but, for me, will you just go back to your hotel room and get a good night's sleep? You're mostly sober now but you still don't need to be out in public." God, when did she become such a mother? It wasn't because he was younger, she just felt so responsible for him.

He nodded sadly. She gave him a quick kiss. "Behave yourself, Damian." She ran up the stairs and into her apartment building.

Damian watched her then got in the cab. The driver asked his destination. Where to-a party, a club, call one of the numbers that he had for women in Manhattan? Then Emily's face came to him. "…for me…," she had said. He couldn't ignore that, but he could modify it. He gave the name of his hotel. He'd go to his room…and the fully-stocked mini-bar.

1Anything for Ya  
2Easy Come, Easy Go  
3Wrong in All the Right Ways  
4Need You Now


	4. No Idea

That pounding had to stop. What was causing it? "Stop," Damian yelled desperately.

"Come on, Damian, let us in," said a voice on the outside of the door. And the pounding continued.

If he let them in would the pounding stop? It was worth a try, if he could just find the floor. There it is, he thought as he fell out of bed. Floor…door..."jerks," he said as he opened the door and his traveling companions entered.

Damian fell back on the bed. His friends noticed all of the small empty bottles scattered around the room.

"Come on," said Chord. "You need to pack so we can leave."

"'mstayin'," mumbled Damian through his pillow.

"Why?" someone asked.

"Sleep," he answered petulantly.

"You can sleep on the plane," reasoned Harry.

"No, sightseein' " Damian added, rolling onto his back. "Get a hot tour guide. Fuck 'er on top of the Empire buildin'," he said as he placed his pillow over his head.

"That's the Empire State Building," said Darren, precisely, with a smirk.

Damian, hung over and miserable, had never looked more non-American as he lowered the pillow and fastened a scornful look in the direction of whomever had corrected him. "Do I give a shit?" he asked.

"Well there's that Irish charm we hear so much about," said Mark. "Okay, Damo, if you want to stay, stay. We've got a plane to catch. We'll see you back in L.A."

As they headed out the door Damian bellowed, "Tell your friend Julian to drop dead."

Kevin had stayed behind and, with everyone gone, now asked his friend, "Is this all because of her?"

Damian turned his head slightly toward him then looked up at the ceiling. "She has a name."

"I know," Kevin said, "I just didn't think you'd want to hear it."

"I like hearin' it. I like sayin' it…my hot chica with the proper English name. Oh, Godemily," he said through clenched teeth as he rolled over into the fetal position.

"Well if you feel that strongly about her, shouldn't it be goddess?" Kevin asked sarcastically.

Damian raised his eyebrows in confusion. "Huh?"

"You said God Emily like it was her title," Kevin explained. "In that case wouldn't she be a goddess?"

Again Damian rolled over onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. With a slight smile the good Catholic boy intoned "yeah, Goddess Emily."

Kevin shook his head; Damian noticed. "You've seen her a couple of times. You know what it feels like to be around her. You have no idea how much…more…it is to be with her, to be able to think of her as yours. And I never will again," he concluded, this time turning onto his stomach and putting the pillow over his head.

"You don't know that," said Kevin. "You could call her."

Under the pillow Damian shook his head. "I went to see her last night. I know."

Kevin was confused. "How did you see her? I thought she was with Julian."

Damian lifted the end of the pillow so he could briefly look at Kevin. "I saw her. Maybe she was thinking about me and he couldn't take it," he added with a satisfied sneer. "Whatever-she was there."

"Okay," said Kevin. "What did she say?"

Damian thought. She said he hadn't learned. She said sorry didn't make a difference. She said by his standards, she didn't measure up to herself.

"She told me to behave myself," he said sulkily, "like I was a little kid. She doesn't think of me as a man anymore."

Kevin leaned against the dresser, idling picking up and putting down items that Damian had left there—his key card, wallet, phone. "Are you sure she ever really thought of you as a man? Maybe she was just having fun with a kid." 

"Yeah, she did," Damian stated. "She liked the way I got things done. But I couldn't do anything for her. I tried; I couldn't," he said dejectedly.

"What did she want you to do for her?" 

Damian returned to lying on his back. "I tried to get Ryan to put her on the show. He told her he'd changed his mind before I'd even had a chance to tell her that he was interested. She was so hurt. It was like bein' rejected by him twice."

Kevin looked troubled that Damian was pining for someone who could be that pushy and grasping. "Did she tell you to do that? Is that why she broke up with you?"

"No," Damian answered. "But I disappointed her."

Kevin was relieved that Emily hadn't actually expected something like that from Damian. It was pressure he'd put on himself. "Maybe that wasn't what disappointed her," Kevin said. "Was there any other way that you might have let her down?"

Damian turned in the bed again. "Maybe," he said, looking away in deep thought.

Kevin laid down the phone and moved to the door. "You need to sleep it off. I'll check on you before I leave."

Damian fought sleep as long as he could, thinking about Kevin's question. _…any other way I let her down…_

He awoke later to more knocking. "Go away, Kev," he yelled, now sobered.

"It's not Kevin," said a woman's voice.

Damian jumped out of bed and flew to the door. He flung it open and draped himself over her petite frame—with relief, with excitement, with near reverence. She was to him, after all, Goddess Emily.


	5. It Hurts

_How does he do this to me?_ Emily wondered, attempting to stand very still and not respond to Damian's enthusiastic embrace.

This was the Damian for whom she'd dropped her guard, the Damian whom she'd first talked into a sexy weekend, who had shown up at her door the following week—one moment livid and the next practically erotic. This was the Damian who had swept her up in an open-air market and first told her he loved her. This was the Damian who was dangerous to her.

She patted him on the back and said "Come with me" and led him to the bathroom.

Damian was so happy to see her and so compliant, like a puppy at the return of his mistress.

"Why don't you brush your teeth while I run a bath for you," she told him. She ran the water then went to the main room to start coffee for him. She turned off the water in the bathtub and turned around to find him in close proximity.

He surprised her with a kiss. "Is that better?" he asked with a smirk.

Emily grinned in spite of herself. "Yes, that's better. Get in the tub while I get your coffee."

She came back stirring the sugar in the steaming cup. "This is beginning to feel like a habit, Damian, and I don't like it."

"I'm sorry, Emily," he said from the tub, taking the cup from her.

"Why are you drinking so much?" she asked him in a troubled voice.

Damian sipped the coffee and shook his head. "I don't. It's just seeing you."

Emily was on the verge of tears. "Great…I've driven you, of all people, to drink."

Damian set the cup down and held out his hands for her. "No," he said, "no you haven't."

Against her better judgment she took his hands and knelt beside the tub.

He looked into her eyes to explain. "I reacted bad. That's my fault, not yours. I can't stand rejection from you-two rejections, two benders. He put his hand on the side of her face. "Please don't do it a third time. You're not to blame but I can't take it that you don't want me."

Emily turned and leaned against the tub. "Oh, Damian," she said softly, with frustration.

He ran his fingertips across the back of her neck. "I like your hair up," he said, his voice becoming raspy with desire. "I can see the curve of your neck, just a little bit of your earlobe," he said, tickling it with his finger.

The water splashed as he moved close enough to nuzzle her neck and touch his tongue to her ear. "There's no one like you, Emily," he said. "No matter how many women I have, I still crave you."

She had her eyes closed, trying to control her breathing, not sure what she'd do when he made the inevitable advance.

"Turn your head," he urged.

Emily did and met his lips—their first kiss in so long.

He hadn't immersed his hands or head so they were mostly dry but there were droplets—enough to make his lips moist and give him a dewy, sweet look.

His hands held her face. "I love you," he said breathily.

Her instinct was to pull away but she didn't. "No you don't," she said, trying to downplay the emotion without killing the mood.

Damian was insistent. "Yes, I do and you know it. You're just mad at me."

He randomly placed small kisses on her face and neck as he continued, "Poor baby—mad at the guy who loves you for so long. It hurts, doesn't it? I know it's nearly killed me. You need to get over it because we have to be together."

Emily suddenly stood up. "I don't have to get over anything, except you. I can't let you do this to me again just because you're not able to see it."

She smoothed out her dress and regained her composure. "Now I'm going to make your room livable again then I'm leaving. And you can't use that as an excuse for another bender. You have to get used to pain like the rest of us."

She stalked into the main room and began disposing of the little bottles. The tears stinging her eyes now were angry.

"You think I haven't learned," Damian roared from the bathroom.

He came into the room dripping, with the large bath towel wrapped around his waist. He was angry too and determined that Emily wasn't getting away from him this time, until he had his say.


	6. What Happened

Now that she was willing to give vent to anger, Emily glared at Damian. "I would have been fine if you'd told me that you'd met someone else," she said, reflexively getting him a second towel. "I was prepared for that. I didn't think you were going to turn me into just another name in your little book. I deserved better than that."

"That's not what happened," Damian said, flinging himself down on the couch and, in a more reflective tone saying, "It was worse than that. Sit down so I can explain."

Emily crossed her arms and took a defiant stance. Damian stared at her. "Emily, sit."

She did, saying to herself _. Dont lean over me._ She knew the things that Damian could do that could shake her resolve—certain expressions, sing to her in a low voice, lean over her as they sat next to each other, the way he had after their first night. She couldn't tell him not to do it and give him more weapons to use against her. So she sat there, silently pleading.

Damian stayed on his side of the couch. She breathed a tiny sigh of relief.

He looked in front of him rather than in Emily's direction. "You fought the idea that I love you for so long. When you finally accepted it, it was because of promises I made that you thought you could believe."

She sat with her arms still crossed, not in anger, as it looked to Damian. It was self-defense.

He continued, "I told you that I'd do whatever was needed to help you be happy and secure and I'd try to help you in your career. Of course that was the most selfish thing for me to do. I wanted you with me so that's what I worked on first. When it didn't work, I convinced myself you were as disappointed in me as I was and I began to resent you for it."

Emily's face registered the pain his slowly developing bitterness had caused her.

He finally turned to look at her. "You're definitely not going to be happy and secure if I'm carrying a grudge against you, especially one that you didn't deserve or understand. So I wasn't surprised when I heard that you were having it on with your new producer. It gave me the excuse to try to find someone like you who didn't make me feel like I'd let her down."

Emily's voice trembled. "You mean you hadn't already…" She dropped her head in embarrassment and regret.

"No," Damian said. "I'd been out a couple of times but I only thought about or wanted you for sex, no one else, until I heard about you and that bastard."

He touched her bare arm. Emily had just recently begun to show her arms again, as the bruises had faded.

"I can still see them, Emily," he said, touching one of the yellowing circles. "I heard from people about what he's like. I should've known," he said, moving close enough to put his arms around her. "I'm so sorry." He wrapped her in a protective hug.

Holding her again, Damian thought, She feels so sweet and soft and giving. He knew that and still made a fist and…

"Damn him," he said fiercely, squeezing Emily tighter.

"What did Julian say about the marks?" he asked. "They were fresher when you started seeing him, right?"

Emily had her eyes closed, leaning her head against Damian's chest. She hated the idea of being the damsel in distress, rescued by the handsome prince, but she felt more comfortable, safer now then she had in so long—since the last time he'd held her like that.

"I told him I fell."

Damian rolled his eyes. "He couldn't have believed that. He just didn't want to deal with it."

"Oh and you do?" Emily asked, recovering some of her feisty-ness.

He pulled away from her just enough so that they were looking directly at each other. "I'm anxious to deal with it," he said fervently, "chomping at the bit."

His intensity caused a familiar reaction in her—a twinge. She had to fight that.

She rose from the sofa and walked across the room. "You can't right all the wrongs done to me, Damian. I bring out the worst in people—men especially."

Damian shook his head slowly. "That's why you said you'd driven me to drink, isn't it? You're wrong. You brought out my best, when I wasn't being foolish. Mark said Julian's never been so good. You're a charm, Emmy. I'm Irish; I know from charms."

She looked at him in confusion. What he was saying was so different from what she'd ever thought of herself.

He walked toward her. "I've talked to people about abusive patterns," he said tenderly. "You were likely to fall into the same bad habits, like living with unacceptable behavior in a guy that could lead to abuse. You needed a clear alternative to avoid that. That's what I was supposed to be. That's another way I let you down," he admitted.

Not since the first time that Damian had told her he loved her did Emily feel at such a loss for words.

He continued "You wouldn't believe how many times I've wished that I could go back and do things differently and not lose you," he said, resuming the cuddle, that he found as reassuring as Emily had.

"You talked to people about abusive patterns, why?"

He explained. "I wanted to know more about it. I always hoped I'd get another chance with you someday. I get what I want, remember?"

Emily knew what was coming next. He'd say something like "What I want is you." A great guy but definitely self-centered.

"What I want," Damian continued, "is to understand you more and be better for you".

His statement surprised her. _Wow, maybe he has learned._


	7. Young and Romantic

_**a/n I of course don't own the people in this story or any interest in the featured movie and song (I highly recommend them anyway)** _

_If Damian's really learned then maybe…"_ Emily thought, resting her head under his chin.

"Damian," she said softly, "do you still have Little Emily?"

"Of course I do," he said. He looked into her eyes. "Do you think I'd trash the first thing you ever gave me? That little doll is precious to me," he said.

Emily lowered her eyes. _Nice to know something is,_ she said to herself.

Damian dropped his head a little too. "Do you still have your bracelet," he asked.

She nodded. 

"1408," he said with a small smile.

She looked up. "You remember the room number?"

He caressed her face. "I wouldn't forget something that important. That number changed my life. I want that life back."

Emily looked uncertain.

Damian said, "I know what it's like without you now. I hate it. And I hate what happens to you without me," he added, glancing again at her arms. "We need each other. Don't you see that?"

He kissed her tentatively, then more confidently when she didn't resist.

"You're letting me kiss you," he said. "That's a good sign. You're starting to melt. If there's one thing I know, Emily, it's your body. It talks to me. You're not giving in though. I don't deserve you yet."

He sat down on the bed. Standing had made him dizzy, plus the self-inflicted abuse from last night and the intensity of their conversation had given him a thundering headache.

He pulled her next to him. "We need to have a long talk. I need to be at my best when we do and I'm not right now. I swear you'll never see me weak like this again," he said, disgusted with himself. "But I need to lie down for a while and I want you to stay here while I do. I have no idea how you're here anyway, except maybe an answer to a prayer."

"Kevin," she said.

"What?"

"I got a text from Kevin, which was surprising because I didn't think he had my number. It said 'He needs you' and gave me the name of the hotel and your room number."

Damian smiled. "Bless that boy. I'll have to buy him a car," he said, placing his arms around Emily's shoulders.

She started to protest and he silenced her with another kiss. "I'm joking," he said. "But he'll have a big chit to turn in whenever he wants. I'm so happy you're here."

They were quiet for a moment, just hugging each other, and then Damian said, "Why don't you find a movie to watch, call room service and order some food and we can talk when I wake up."

"Alright," she agreed. Even in his weakened state, being in Damian's company felt more right, more exciting than any other. Julian was very sweet but she didn't feel the electricity in the air when she was with him that she did right now—electricity and a fuzzy blanket, lying by a cool babbling brook, eating her favorite dessert—all of her senses were in harmony when she was with this boy. She couldn't deny it anymore but still….

He picked up the remote from the bedside table to turn on the television. He flipped through the channels and Emily said no or shook her head at each selection. He looked down on her with a patient smile. "No…yes," she finally said, as she recognized the opening credits. "This is one of my favorite movies."

"Don Juan deMarco?"

She nodded. "A young, romantic Johnny Depp. Have you ever seen it?"

"No," he said with a smile. Maybe I will someday, with you. Right now you enjoy a young, romantic Johnny Depp." He leaned closer and whispered "He doesn't know how to touch you the way I do."

She shivered at the tickle of his whisper and moved to the couch so that Damian could lie down. She looked over at him with a smile.

He lay back feeling more content than he had in weeks. Was he going to get her back? Was he going to be able to look at her again anytime he wanted? That gorgeous profile…not chiseled because it was more delicate than stone…like cut glass. Emily extended her legs on the couch, put her arms over her head and arched her back before settling into a curled-up position. Damian licked his lips at the sight. A multitude of heirloom curves, kept in check by a dancer's discipline. His eyes closed as he continued the inventory of her natural gifts.

When he woke this time it was to the sound of a raspy troubadour offering him advice…

_When you love a woman, you tell her she's really wanted_  
 _When you love a woman, you tell her she's the one_

He smiled and stretched and looked toward Emily. She hadn't noticed that he was awake. She was crying. She was watching a romantic movie; of course she was crying.

Then he realized the movie was over and the credits were rolling. Emily was crying over the song.

_She needs somebody to tell her it's gonna last forever_

Emily put her face in her hands and quietly sobbed. _Never,_ she said to herself. _I inspire passion, not devotion. One lasts and the other doesn't. The best relationship I've ever had was with him and it only lasted a couple of months. What will it be this time…three, four….maybe a whole six?_

She felt Damian's hands on her wrists, lowering her hands from her face. He looked up at the television, as if absorbing the lyrics

_To understand her, you gotta know her deep inside_  
 _Hear every thought, see every dream_  
 _And give her wings, when she wants to fly_

She saw the same compelling eyes but beneath them, the expression was different—softer yet more adult. The mouth didn't just want to kiss her, it wanted to talk, show concern for her when she was unhappy, like it was doing now. She saw a face she could trust—not just what he said, but with her heart.

She put her arms around his neck. "I love you, Damian," she said softly.

_When you find yourself lying helpless in her arms,_  
 _You know you really love a woman_

Damian was elated at her statement. He wrapped his arms around her slowly, one at a time, as if allowing each muscle to experience it. He could blissfully live naked with her, subsisting on berries, and never want for anything…except he always wanted more. He wanted to know what she thought about everything. He wanted to take care of her and have her take care of him. He wanted everyone to recognize how wonderful she was—not just as an entertainer, but for herself. He wanted to tell her all of that. _Well, say it, you arse, speak_.

"Emily," he said, raggedly, "you are precious to me. I really, really love you."

She responded with a kiss that began softly and grew in intensity. "I've missed you, Junior," she said with an enticing whisper.

His reaction to her was as strong and immediate as ever, but he didn't want to make any mistakes. "Weren't we supposed to have a long talk?" he hated himself for asking.

Emily jumped off of the couch and released her hair from its updo. "Maybe not so long," she said, as she pulled her dress over her head then jumped on the bed. And it can wait."

He sailed onto the bed after her. The room was filled with joy and excitement—the essence of Damily, with the added component of mutual and never-again-to-be-denied love.

A very happy Damian picked up the remote to turn off the television, coincidentally on the last line of the song…

_Tell me have you ever really, really, really ever loved a woman_


	8. Everything's Changed

Emily was sitting in a chair, looking out the window of Damian's hotel room. "Once again, a great night of love ruined by a morning of talk," she said sadly.

Damian was at the other end of the room, standing with his hands on his hips, his irritation/frustration level at its peak. "Emily, the only way he's coming near you is if I'm dead. And then I'll haunt him."

"I'm not losing all of that work, Damian," she said, still with her back to him. "I have this last session and he's setting up a meeting with a videographer. This is important."

Damian shook his head and began pacing. "No. I can't know that you're going to be with someone who has hit you. If I'd known in the first place, you wouldn't have had all of this work to worry about losing. I have to make sure you're not going to be hurt."

"That's not your job," she said in an emotionless monotone, still maintaining the distance.

He stopped pacing and stood close behind her. "The hell it isn't," he said. "If you're not going to protect yourself, I'll have to do something to make sure it doesn't happen. I don't know what yet, but I'll figure out something and apologize for it later."

Emily turned her swivel chair. "If you do that, you won't have to worry about apologizing, because you'll never see me again."

He flopped down on the couch situated across from her chair and just stared at her.

"Something like that would make you just as controlling as he is, maybe not violent, but you'd be saying you know what's good for me and manipulating things against my wishes."

Damian still stared in disbelief.

Emily ran her hands through her hair. "It's all I have, Damian—just another chance. And it's good work," she said, looking at him as though to persuade him. "I don't have a TV role on my resume or a band that would sell its soul to have me back," she continued. "I can't lose this."

Feeling that she'd revealed too much, Emily turned the chair with her back to him again.

Damian saw her head drop and shoulders shake. The words from last night's song, which he'd downloaded earlier that morning, came to him…

_You got to give her some faith, hold her tight_  
 _A little tenderness, gotta treat her right_

He didn't want confrontation with her; he loved her. He walked over to the chair and turned it around, then dropped to his knees so they were closer to eye level. He used a finger to wipe away a tear rolling down her cheek.

"I don't want to control you," he said softly. "Come sit with me so we can figure this out."

They sat on the couch with their arms around each other.

"I understand how much your work means to you and you understand how much you mean to me," he said diplomatically. "So I'll go with you."

Emily shook her head. "You can't do that. It would be like the two of you fighting over me. That tension would ruin the session and maybe enrage him."

He smiled and explained "I won't be alone. You'll have an adoring entourage. We'll get Matheus and Bryce. You love them, right?"

She nodded. "You don't have to do things alone, Emily," he said. "A lot of people love you—me most of all."

Something occurred to him that made him squeeze her tighter. "Alex can come too," he offered.

"Alex?"

Damian nodded. "He'll be staying at our house this week," he said. And a second, even better thought came to him. "You're coming to my house," he added, jiggling her arms a little, with a big smile.

"But I have reservations." 

He looked adamant, with a firm line over his mouth replacing the jovial smile. "I'm not compromising on this, Emily. I want to see you in a little bikini by my pool and at my dinner table and in my big new bed. I want you to be comfortable there. It's your California place."

He kissed her. "So, I'm going to pack, then we're going to your apartment to get you packed, then I'm taking you home."

Emily loved Damian's enthusiasm but there was something else that needed to be addressed.

He was busy throwing things in his suitcase and whistling. She hated to bring him down but…

"Damian, I have to explain things to Julian."

He sighed and stopped his actions. There were just so many men in her life, all who wanted her to some degree. "He'll figure it out," he said shortly, resuming tossing his socks in the bag.

She sat on the bed and looked up at him. "I want to make sure he hears the truth, especially since I'll be staying at your house…"

"…your California place," he corrected her.

"I don't want him to find out from someone else," she said. "A big part of our problem was hearing things from other people. He's a good person; he deserves better," she finished standing and putting her arms around Damian's neck.

His arms circled her waist. Do you want to stop to see him on our way to your apartment?"

"Yes," she said. "You're so sweet for understanding."

He looked at her intently. "Tell me the magic words," he said.

Emily pretended not to understand. "Expelliarmus? Please and thank you?" she asked.

Damian held up his fingers. "Three words," he prompted.

She looked as though she had suddenly got it. "Oh…you mean I love you," she teased.

He nodded slowly. She kissed him softly on the side of his face two or three times, moving to his lips. "I love you, Damian," she said. "Now are you going to be okay with me seeing my old squeeze?"

He rolled his eyes. "You mean old—like two days ago."

She smiled widely. "Everything's changed. You know that."

Damian looked down resignedly but still delightedly. She was going to drive him bonkers and keep him coming back for more.


	9. Really Ever Loved

Damian arranged for a car from the hotel for him and Emily. They were surprised to see the driver's nametag on the lapel of his suit.

"Is your name really Karl?" asked Emily bouncing up to him with excitement.

"Yes," the blond drive answered politely, wondering why that was an issue.

Damian explained, "4We had a cabdriver before by the same name. He and the drive were memorable." He and Emily exchanged a mischievous smile.

In the back seat of the car, Damian watched her anxiously. She was becoming more nervous as they neared Julian's hotel. It made her chatty and she engaged Karl in her banter.

He stopped in front of the hotel and Emily moved toward the door. Damian pulled her back in a tight hug. He kissed her as though he was afraid it would be the last time.

"I love you," he said passionately. "Don't forget that while you're up there."

She looked at him, wanting to give reassurance. "I love you," she responded, "don't forget that while you're down here."

She headed for Julian's room. She had the key card to return to him. She chose not to use it at his door, but knocked instead.

Julian smiled when he opened the door and saw her. The smile faded as he realized the uncomfortable look on her face. "Are you sure, Emily?" he asked. "You were so hurt before."

She gave a small nod. "Yes, Hon, I'm sure. We understand things better now. We're not going to make those mistakes again."

He started to pull her in for a passionate embrace to dissuade her, then changed his mind. He took her hands. "Alright, my beautiful friend, I guess I understand how you feel. Even if I'm with someone, I'll drop her in an instant if you ever come back."

He walked over to a box against the wall. "I had a feeling you'd need your things," he said.

Emily took the box and said "You're a wonderful guy, Julian. Knock 'em dead tonight."

Outside by the car, Damian was nervously pacing. Karl glanced at the clock and said, "I'm supposed to have the car back at the hotel in half an hour."

Damian tossed him a large bill through the window and Karl didn't mention time again. After a few minutes, Karl looked toward the door and said to the younger man, "She could use some help with that."

Damian looked up from checking his watch again and felt his heartbeat quicken, as he saw Emily struggling with the door and a box. He ran to her and put an arm around her and took the box under the other one. He signaled to Karl to open the trunk and laid it in there, then turned his attention to her.

"That was the longest 18-and-a-half minutes of my life," he said, holding her close.

She looked doubtful. "Really," she said.

He grinned. "Like you've said—I've had a pretty easy life, except in the last few months, when I decided I wanted a hot, older woman more than I wanted my sanity."

_You've gotta breathe her, really taste her_  
 _'til you can feel her in your blood_

He kissed her deeply until Karl honked the horn. Damian slammed down the trunk. "He's got bottle," he said, as he opened the car door for Emily."

"He's cute," she said.

Damian got in the car after her. "Yeah, I noticed you noticed," he stated wryly, sliding into her open arms.

Karl looked back at the couple with a sly smile. "I'm glad you came back," he said to Emily. "I don't know how I could've handled him if you hadn't."

"Shut up Karl," Damian said good-naturedly, as Emily stretched her neck for a kiss.

"Silly boy," she cooed, smiling sweetly, "of course I was coming back. I have to take care of the monster I created."

Damian looked at her adoringly. "Who in this car isn't starving?" he asked. "Karl, find a good restaurant then something to flatten a tire. Lunch is on us."

The lunch was light-hearted and filling, then the déjà vu continued, as Damian gave Karl a huge tip and Emily gave him a kiss on the cheek. They left him to tend to the car and walked the remaining blocks to Emily's apartment hand-in-hand, with Damian carrying the box and Emily pulling his wheeled luggage.

In her apartment Damian set the box down and said, "I'll call in a reservation for us for later tonight but right now…where's my bed, Woman?" he asked in his huskiest voice, running his hands all over her.

"In California?"

Damian shook his head and continued his pawing. "I mean my New York bed. This is my New York place. 3That's my hook for my jacket, that's my coffee table, that's my accursed love seat. I may put up posters," he said with an impish grin.

She loved how his aggression was mixed with playfulness. This was the Damian whom she couldn't get out of her head when she opened a 2computer file bearing his name, who handled situations and people with an assurance far beyond his youth, the Irish charmer no one could resist, least of all her.

She jumped into his arms and locked her ankles against his back. Pointing behind her, she said with more sex appeal than team spirit, "Go United."

He held her possessively and followed her direction, singing the latest from his songs for Emily repertoire…

_When you love a woman, you tell her she's really wanted…_


End file.
